A Comprehensive Guide to Taking Over the House
by richard.fsea
Summary: Basically a revamp of my previous story, Coup D'Etat, which features a methodical, ruthless Rightful Heir, who lacks the time nor energy for such foibles as humanity and romance. (no offence intended)
1. Chapter 1

Dawn entered without knocking. Her brother's office was empty. _Why he spends so much time among the Denizens, doing __**work**__…_ she let the thought trail off. One slightly shimmering finger brushed the desk at the centre of the room and came away clean. "Hm," she muttered.

She'd not done much actual work in centuries. But, like a sore tooth, the tongue of her focus touched it only briefly and leapt away. The repressed guilt and shame were too much to focus on for any extended period of time.

A bang shook her out of her stupor. Dawn swept around- but there was only a Piper's Child, staring at her, eyes wide with- something. She was not quite sure _what_, but there was _something_. "Milord Dusk will be right over soon," he said, ducking his head down, a tremor in his voice. She mistook it for fear.

The Piper's Child bustled around Dusk's desk. Dawn felt a bit of irritation; her other brother wouldn't have allowed Piper's Children to clean _his_ desk; not her, certainly. Mister Monday wouldn't.

A brief flicker from the side; and suddenly the lights came on, though noticeably dimmer, and Dawn instinctively tensed, for fear of attack, however absurd the possibility was, and was immediately proven horribly right.

Her brother Dusk, bearing a jade frog in his hand- surrounded by his Midnight Servants. She recognized a few higher-ranking Denizens among them, as well as her own Inspectors- her brother's Sergeants, too. And Piper's Children- so many of them, a great swarm. The office was suddenly claustrophobic. _Treachery_, something whispered to her, urgently, _**treachery!**_

But Dawn was prudent- less loath to stop and think- and she knew that to stand against her brother and his servants, as well as her own, who knew her weaknesses, and the frog- for all her forgetfulness, the gears of her mind were turning once more, and she knew that self-assured gaze. She knew exactly what words circulated within that jade cranium.

"_Monday's_ Dawn," a voice suddenly cracked from behind her, breaking the silence- quiet, assertive, with a hint of triumph- mocking her Mister Monday- "please, sit."

Dawn sat. Unlike her brother, she was cautious enough to know that any defiance would cost her. So she sat.

Facing her, on the opposite side of her brother's table, was the Piper's Child that had first entered. So it was; she _knew_ his clothing was too regular, his face too clean, to be a Piper's Child. His arms were relaxed on the arms of her brother's chair, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the fine wood of the desk. And dangling from one hand-

The Lesser Key. An innocuous metal spike. The rumours were true. Her brother had validated them himself. How had he evaded them for so long? She knew the answer.

_Dusk_.

The boy (_the __**Rightful Heir**_) spoke again. "Well, Dawn, here we are."

Dawn stayed silent. Her brother's office was silent. The Lesser Key ceased its meanderings and was hidden from view by those long, pale fingers.

"Here we are, indeed. You are surrounded. There is no escape. Now- I would rather you joined me with minimum fuss, to be honest, but- if it comes to that, I just want to make clear that I will not shy from the use of force."

A snap of the finger; immediately, the jade frog jumped onto his other hand. Dawn recoiled. A mirthless smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"A reminder, first and foremost."

_Into the trust of my good Monday…_

Dawn sat and listened, unable to shut her ears to the litany; the words still had authority, even now. After being caged on a dead star, guarded by Sentinels, for centuries and centuries- the words still had authority. Her Mister Monday's sins, laid out in black and white. Undeniable. _Undeniable_, the voices whispered to her.

Around her, the mouths of the assembled Denizens were half-open. A near-euphoric expression graced their features- it was as close to the voice of the Architect herself as they would ever get. This- this was why they had joined the organization, the first of its kind. This- and also because Monday's Dusk was in on it as well, and also because the Lesser Key had a hand in it. The Greater Key, on the other hand, rarely saw use. They hadn't felt its touch in millennia.

Dawn licked her lips. _Easier than expected_, the boy thought to himself.

"What do you need me to do?"


	2. Chapter 2

The Denizens were getting impatient.

Yes, Richard could see that.

Along the length of a hastily converted table, formerly used for deadlocked meetings and fruitless conferences, the various representatives of the communities of Piper's Children and Denizens in on the Committee for Restoration (as it had been christened) alternatively dozed off, screwed around or twiddled their thumbs, falling back into old habits. At the head of the table, Richard watched the slow decline of discipline quietly, hands steepled in front of his face. Under his treasured military tunic (the only piece of clothing he'd managed to bring into this godforsaken place), a set of requisitioned clothing, a mishmash of the fine suits of the Midnight Servants and the Corps of Inspectors.

The Piper's Children and the Denizens were very different in terms of command structure. The former were democratic- some might say downright socialist- in the distribution of power. One Piper's Child spoke for all of them. As for the Denizens, they clung to the traditional chain of command; the most senior Denizen, then, was allocated the power to speak and make decisions for those below him.

The communities had been divided and reorganized based on the system created by the old Architect, as haltingly reconstructed by Dusk (with assistance provided by the Will). They'd not been especially overt about it, however- if Monday noticed that the Lower House was becoming more and more orderly, he'd smell a rat during whatever period of time he was awake- and Noon would go to _correct_ it.

"They are restless," the Will commented, at his right hand, still very much a frog.

The building within which he had set up his stronghold was formerly an archive for records. Now, these records were being shipped out daily; the building was now used for processing and reorganizing the rusty cataloguing system. The centre of the revival of the Lower House.

"Quite," Richard replied. He tapped the table smartly with the Lesser Key. Instead of the disquieting metal-on-wood screech, a clear bell rang throughout the chamber, yet resonated no further than the boundaries of the base of operations.

"This table will come to order."

Silence.

"Good. To address a few of the queries from various Piper's Children- yes, we will make our move soon, and you will all have your own jobs back, and down with inefficiency. Just- not yet. But, but, but- let me finish- the time is approaching, soon enough. We have reached such a massive degree of penetration of the general workforce that our little militia project will soon be ready for small-scale operations elsewhere, and large-scale operations here."

Upon return from the Great Maze, Denizens were folded into something of a pet project for Richard: the complete militarization of all Denizens and Piper's Children under his control; the conversion of the Lower House into a stronghold and base for future conquests. These Denizens helped to train those who had forgotten the last century of training. It helped to build discipline, at least, even though they were short on actual weapons.

This was why they had to wait. All preparation took time; once he was recognized as a threat, he would have to strike quickly. _Blitzkrieg_\- lightning war. For this, every Denizen had to be involved in the war effort, fighting with their bare immortal fists if necessary.

"It also pleases me to announce that the time in question will be on the morrow. This is not an exercise, nor a drill. I expect all Denizens to be ready for war when the time comes, when the bell tolls, when all of hell breaks loose."

All previous queries had been forgotten and ignored. Richard had as little patience as Monday when it came to day-to-day operations. Denizens were expected to negotiate between themselves and only submit disputes to him when absolutely necessary. Of course, this was not in their nature- but Richard delegated quite a bit to the Will, which was a proud workaholic.

"We will lure Monday and his Noon out into the open, under the pretence of an urgent matter. The Midnight Servants will be our main combat troops- taking on the real heavyweights, you understand; not that I expect any substantial resistance. I will personally negotiate with Monday and his Noon with the Will, Dawn and Dusk. If he is not agreeable, as I expect he will be, Dawn and Dusk will engage the two while Denizens and Piper's Children clear off any possible collaborators or sympathizers, as well as crowd in Monday and his Noon. Prevent any escape."

Convening the Committee was a convenient method for him to hand down orders. For all his grandfather had taught him, Richard had failed to develop much affection for the democratic process.

"That's all. Dismissed."

Richard stood up, and the table stood with him. "Lord Richard," they chorused, and he left the room. As was normal, a number of them stayed back to speak to the Will. Not so for the Piper's Children; as general dogsbodies, they left to do whatever it was that Piper's Children did. One of them fell alongside Richard.

"Hey, Dick," Suzy Turquoise Blue said, grinning. It had been agreed that she, having been the first to meet Richard, would be the general representative for the Piper's Children. He had promised her the position of Monday's Tierce, which, surprisingly, drew little joy.

"Suzy."

"So some of our own was talking about what they'd done and seen in the Army, and they said that you'd want to hear this." They rounded a corner and emerged out into the street. Above, the ceiling of the Lower House glimmered as it always had. Here, at the centre of Richard's unofficial sphere of influence (which expanded daily), there was silence. Exchanges were rare, but conducted in absolute silence. Everyone had enough to use. Here, information was at the fingertips of every Denizen.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah." Suzy nodded regally for a moment- but not at Richard. The mild fear and tremendous respect that Richard commanded extended, to some extent, to her. "Drowned Wednesday wants to retire. Well, not really- she's wanted to retire for quite long, but- she wants t' speak with you. From some of the newest recruits from the Border Sea."

Richard nodded. He'd received an invitation to luncheon; from what he knew, Wednesday was afflicted with an all-consuming hunger. The Border Sea impinged onto the Void and onto the Secondary Realms; fallen into disrepair, like the other demesnes. It was fine, anyhow; the takeover was coming, soon enough.

"Noted."

Suzy waited for some expression of thanks, but Richard's face remained impassive and shuttered, a dull gleam dancing in his eyes. Whatever he was thinking, he would not share.

"What are you waiting for? Everyone has a place, Suzy. Go and fulfil yours."


	3. Chapter 3

The day itself dawned bright and early. Unlike how Richard normally dressed, in the heart of his domain, he donned ripped and torn clothing, and joined the many Piper's Children. For his part, he did not bemoan the loss of such comfort. Sacrifices had to be made. One of his grandfather's favourite sayings.

And his grandfather _had_ made sacrifices. At the end, he'd sacrificed his life for the country; the old PM, standing with his guards against the onslaught of invading troops, at the gates of the capital. Richard and his brothers and sisters and cousins, kept well away from the outskirts, waiting with bated breath; yet the deep awareness that they could not win.

And who had caused it? Who had _interfered_?

They had tried to kill him, to take the Lesser Key, and when that failed, they punished his entire nation. Now the old military tunic, hanging in his bedroom, bore pride of place among the many pieces of requisitioned clothing, with medals and epaulettes, all meaningless. The relic of a dead state, to which he would never return.

They would pay; yes, both the invaders and those within this very demesne, and more besides. Richard had sworn that to himself, as the portal from his home disappeared from sight and the impossible became very much real. Vengeance; the sole constant in his life.

But that was not the point.

All the Lower House descended into chaos once more. The offices were empty; abandoned; desolate. The Coal Cellars had not been obtained, not as yet. Monday's Dayroom; not that, either, but Richard owned the hearts and minds of the majority of the Lower House, and that would be enough.

Denizens opened doors and stepped out into the street, filing out in an orderly fashion to allow more and more of their fellows to depart. Piper's Children ran to and fro along the rickety constructions. All work had been abandoned. The air was not as hot as Richard would have reckoned it to be; Denizens didn't breathe, after all, and nor did the Piper's Children, after being washed between the ears.

Dawn flew to the Dayroom, fake tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "They've rebelled," she would wail, "and Dusk, among them!" Noon would fight, of course; but Monday? "The Rightful Heir is among them!" Monday would tag along, of course, the Greater Key clenched in hands that had forgotten how to tighten. All else was unnecessary.

Chisels and hammers and quills were taken up into hands that had used them for millennia. Stone slabs were used as shields; writing implements fashioned into arrows. Papyrus set aflame. And, among them, disdaining weapons, Richard, the Will perched in his pocket, ready to call to the inbuilt obedience of the two traitors.

"Now we fight," Richard muttered, under his breath, and one of the Piper's Children picked it up. He shouted that short mutter, and then it suddenly rippled throughout the throng, picked up by throats that could shout without fear of soreness or phlegm.

Somewhere close by, Noon's nerves tingled. At least, that was what Richard was hoping. Shock and awe was paramount. "Now we march on the Dayroom." Once more, his order echoed through the ranks, and with a roar thousands of Denizens and Piper's Children set out on the slow march towards Monday. Above; the beating of wings, hard and fast. But Richard was not among them, for that would present too much of a target.

For minutes and minutes, all was sound. The relentless clip-clop-clip-clop of feet on cobblestone, and the rhythmic beating of wings, like war-drums. Richard gave himself over to the rhythm.

He had no doubt that some Denizens or Piper's Children would die- no, be destroyed- but then again, that was expected. They were not human, although they resembled them superficially; no, not even the Piper's Children, for they had _once_ been human. There was a difference. Destroying them would be like putting down an animal. And Richard had never felt much for animals.

The whispers spread through the ranks. "Monday's coming. Noon's coming. The Sergeants are coming." Soon enough, the time would come. Richard held one arm aloft, the Lesser Key glimmering in the sunlight. The Will hiccupped in his ear. The flock of Denizens above sped towards Monday and his Noon, which in turn were growing bigger with every second.

Any minute now…

The Piper's Children kept a safe distance away from Richard. Discreetly, Suzy fixed wings to his back. These were the best quality that could be requisitioned in the six months he'd spent in the Lower House. The cobblestone had begun to crack in some places, and the buildings were fewer and less densely constructed. The Dayroom loomed ahead.

Any minute now…

Richard's Adam's apple bobbed. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His exposed skin itched for the comforting oldness of the military tunic. _Soon, soon_-

Now.

The Lesser Key slashed down, and at once, a dozen sharp implements were raised, more and more and more, in an ever-widening circle. Torches held aloft, hard, unyielding plates of metal and cold, rough tablets of stone hoisted above straight arms. Richard took to the air, the Will clinging on for dear life, and the ranks closed up where he had left.

The wind whistled in his ears. There was an unmistakeable _crack-snap_ as dozens and dozens of Commissionaire Sergeants turned on their comrades, sending them falling to the ground- the sharp implements, to be exact. On the ground, holes opened up to receive the Sergeants, and just as quickly closed back up.

Inspectors and Midnight Servants engaged their counterparts, and all excess Denizens flew to join Richard. Dawn and Dusk engaged their brother, leaving Monday aloft and exposed. Richard had been shouting the words as he ascended in a nearly vertical direction. In one hand, a bead of blood glistened, made by the Lesser Key, ready and waiting.

"Minute by minute, hour by hour, two hands as one, together the power!"

The Greater Key flew from Monday even as Dawn and Dusk lunged at their brother, dividing the two. Now Monday fell after the Key, and as many Denizens as possible lunged to block him, even as Richard darted away, over the shining lances that pointed upwards.

Into his hands it darted, and Richard nearly impaled his entire hand on it, so eager was he, as Monday burst through the cloud of Denizens and sped towards him. As he did, Richard disengaged his wings and fell towards the ground. Blood welled up in one finger, and in one swift, practiced movement he smeared one drop over one Key each.

He landed with a thump, and the wall of spikes closed up above him. Back bent, legs at right angles, he squeezed past cramped legs. There was a commotion not too far behind him. Monday was being attacked from all directions as he struggled to make his way to Richard.

"I, Richard, anointed Heir to the Kingdom, claim this Key and with it the Mastery of the Lower House."

The Greater Key struggled to break free of Richard's grasp, but the Will leapt down and pulled it back, so it stayed. Monday had broken free of his attackers, yes, but there were still more left to plug the gap, and now Inspectors, Sergeants and Midnight Servants descended to fling down attacks from above. As the ranks closed up once more, Richard could see scales break out across Monday's skin.

"I claim it by blood and bone and contest, out of truth, in testament-"

One huge red-gold tail flung aside a hundred combatants from within the lethal melee. Monday's face emerged, panicked.

"-and against all trouble."

The two Keys suddenly struggled towards one another like neodymium magnets, and Richard was only too happy to oblige. As the sword took shape, Monday resumed struggle. His head extended at an incredible speed towards Richard, fangs extended. Richard took some steps backward.

"Stop fighting."

All movement ceased. His voice, amplified though it was, was laced as well with the power of the First Key. Monday's convulsions went slack. What few Commissionaire Sergeants who were still fighting dropped their weapons and faced Richard like the rest. Dawn and Dusk had taken their brother between the two of them.

"Lower your weapons."

Like clockwork, the weapons were lowered.

"All Denizens and Piper's Children not under the direct control of Monday, his Dawn, Noon and Dusk, or under the Committee of Restoration will return to work with all available haste."

Torches were extinguished. Monday had taken the shape of a human now, and though it seemed to hurt him to stay awake, he continued to stare at Richard with undisguised hatred. The cobblestones once more rang with the sound of feet marching. Planting the blade at a right angle to the pavement, Richard allowed himself to rest on the First Key.

"The rest will return to the ground."

Now the host above returned to the earth.

"And now we return to the Dayroom. Prisoners must be kept watch on at all times. Monday, Noon, Dawn, Dusk, to me."

No more did Dawn, Dusk or Noon belong to Monday. Now they were his.

Like clockwork.


End file.
